The Memories of Ponyboy Curtis
by Pass the Ice Cream
Summary: Darry remembers moment's of Ponyboy's life- from before he was born and on-wards. Some of the brotherly moment's they have shared... More chapters to come. Rated M for safety- no slash.


**AN: If you like it, please review for me :) I will give you free imaginary cookie :)**

1. Darry remembers moment's of Ponyboy's life- from before he was born and on-wards. Some of the brotherly moment's they have shared... More chapters to come. Rated M for safety- no slash.

I was 8 and mommy was having really bad tummy aches, she didn't really sat anything but I could tell she was scared as she looked at me and Sodapop. We were in the hospital room for news of my new little brother!

"Darryl, I don't think he is going to survive" My father took her hand into his and squeezed.

"Baby okay?" Soda mumbled, a thumb in his mouth- suckling it. I could tell mama didn't know what to say, tears were starting to bring in her eyes. "Mama" Soda waddled over to her and outstretched his arm, touching her face as he gave her his famous Soda grin.

"Oh Soda" mum picked him up in her arms. "Baby might not make it to see you" She tried not be cry, she tried to be strong.

"Why?" He dragged it on, his smile dropping...

"Because God may need him somewhere else" I didn't think Soda quite understood. But he did know mum was upset- and mum upset means Soda was too... he was awfully connected to her. "Sometimes God is unfair and takes people we love away because he has made plans for them already."

As she shed a single drop of a tear, Soda began to bawl. I'm not sure if he was crying because Baby Curtis was no longer going to be with us- or if it was for our mother...

2.

At 3 A.M. on a snow day, born three months before he was due... came Ponyboy Michael Curtis, silent- blue and trying to gasp for breath. He was whisked away in a great big machine- mommy didn't even get to see his tiny little body- when I came into the room I saw she was exhausted and crying as the doctor said words I didn't really even understand at the time.

He said: "Expect the worst... to be entirely honest Mrs Curtis... I'd really only give him a few hours at the most.

Mum went into an unexpected early labour- it was lucky she did, Because Dr Brown said she could've died. Ponyboy's cord was starting to detach which is not only dangerous for him but for her too...

But, despite what Dr Brown said... an hour became a day, a day become a week, and funnily enough... a week became a month. They called him a miracle baby- all the odds were against his tiny soul. It's almost as if something... or someone wanted him to live.

Almost 3 years past and mum was extremely protective over him, always leering about so she could keep her eyes on him- she hardly let us near him without her being there... he managed to come this far alive, so why couldn't she just let him live?

3.

Six years later and I'm 14, Soda is 12 and Pony just turned 6. He still had an extremely small figure and was about the same size a 4 year old. And still, mum was protective of him. And I often wondered why she wouldn't just let him live, after all he managed to surive. I knew it made him frustrated... he often talk to me about it.

"Why does mummy treat us differently?" Ponyboy has asked, staring up at me with his big brown eyes. "She always treats us differently and I hate it" I honestly felt sorry for my little kid brother,

"Because... momma is afraid to let you go in case you never come back" it was sort of hard to explain this to a year old. "Mama almost lost you" his head turned to the side, thoroughly confused.

"Why, did I run away?" I tried to explain it in simpler terms.

"Do you remember how grandma went to heaven and left us?" When he nodded I continued. "You almost went there too because you were a sick baby. So, sometimes mommy finds it hard to leave you, because she doesn't want _you _to leave _her._"

I guess he somewhat understood, because as if on cue mum called Ponyboy's name and he came running into her arms, giving her one of his award winning smiled. "I love you mama" she kissed him on the cheek and said it back.

4.

Pony came home from school with a shiner, a big bruise that made mum drop a plate and dad curse under his breath. I was emotionless, standing to still I could be mistaken for a statue.

Ponyboy was crying and sobbing profusely. Surprisingly, he came to me not Sodapop or mum... not even dad- he came to me. He and Soda were so close- like two peas in a pod. They became best friends; they argued about stupid stuff and laughed their little heads off like it was the funniest thing afterward. Ponyboy talked to him about the latest movie he had seen with a friend of his from school- or a picture he drew... about the sunset- about everything, and Sodapop would intake all this information like it was a matter of life and death. They loved each other. Ponyboy, Soda and I drifted away when my main focus became on trying to get this scholarship to get into Yale.

At 18 I wanted to be able to have a good head on my shoulders and get out of this stupid town to help provide for my family and become somebody great- a role model that my brothers can look up to. I wanted them all to be proud of me, especially Ponyboy... because I looked up to him and he was only 12.

But as he came rushing into my arms I held him tightly to me, not wanting to let him go as sobs just wracked through his tiny body. I picked his tiny body up in my arms and brought him into my room, lying him down on my bed as I laid there beside him.

"Ponyboy, who did this to you, honey?" he didn't respond for awhile, anger began to boil up inside me- not at him but at the bastards that did it too him. Once I find out who did it- they'd have to deal with me. I would make sure they hurt for weeks to come for laying a hand on my little brother.

"Paul"

My mouth opened wide... I was confused- extremely confused.

"Paul, as in _my _Paul- my best friend Paul?" He sniffed, his eyes red and puffy. I could hear mum and dad's hushed whispers in the kitchen. "Why would he want to hit you...?"

"I don't know. He called me a filthy, low life Greaser and then him and some of his buddies started hitting me" And that was it, I got up off of the bed and stopped comforting him. I stormed out of the house and began a walk to his house in SocVille...

Let's just say Paul never hit my brother again- nor did we talk.


End file.
